


Winterbreak

by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Brief Kissing, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Plotless Fluff, Snow, Snowball Fight, electrician Derek Hale, implied pining, not that it matters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21799198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving/pseuds/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving
Summary: Winterbreak, like always, is spent at the Hale pack's cabin in the mountains.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 76
Collections: 12 Days of Sterek





	Winterbreak

**Author's Note:**

> Made for [12 Days of Sterek](https://12daysofsterek.tumblr.com/).
> 
> I take title suggestions ~~(seriously, fuck titles!)~~
> 
> Did I forget (important) tags? Let me know. Otherwise, comments and kudos are appreciated

Last class of the year. At the front of the room the professor’s droning on and on about, well it’s not as if Stiles would know seeing as he’s currently trying to remember if he packed everything he’s going to need for the holidays.

Like every year since Scott had gotten in the way of a feral alpha werewolf at the age of ten, earning both him and his best friend as well as their parents instant membership of the Hale Pack, they’re going to the Hales’ cabin in the mountains for winter break.  
It’s an old tradition, born centuries ago when the Hale Pack settled on what would later become Beacon Hills. Before then they’d called a third of the continent their’s, but other shifters and humans joining the pack meant the long travels became more dangerous and took longer. Eventually they settled somewhere in the middle between the furthest north and furthest south thus forfeiting the majority of their territory.  
Which long dead Hale had built the original cabin is lost to history, but over the many years it has been extended and modernized to fit the whole Hale Pack comfortably for a few weeks at a time.

The professor finally stops talking and wishes them happy holidays, the students distractedly echoing the sentiment while gathering their things and heading for the door. Stiles, impatient as he is manages to be among the first ones through despite having sat at the end of the large room. Roscoe’s already packed so Stiles makes his way towards the parking lot while checking his phone, looking up as there’s neither a message nor a missed call and grins when he sees a person leaning against his jeep.

“Derek,” despite knowing the ‘wolf would be able to hear him at normal volume Stiles yells the name over the din of people and traffic causing several heads to turn towards him, most of them stopping at the sight of Derek and more or less quietly lust after him before getting back to their own business while Stiles nearly waves himself into the ground. Then he’s close enough for Derek to wrap his arms around him in a bone crushing hug that’s over much too soon in Stiles’ opinion followed by Derek taking the to-go-coffee cups down the roof and waiting for him to open the passenger door, then placing them in the cup holders while Stiles turns the key, backs out of the lot and turns towards Beacon Hills.

They use the trip to catch up. They’re the only pack members in Los Angeles so usually they meet up at least once a week - and report back to the other’s parents that their respective child is happy and healthy - plus texting and the occasional phone call. However, with various deadlines hanging above both their heads it’s been nearly a month since they last saw each other, both too busy to go home for Thanksgiving.  
Derek had left Beacon Hills straight out of high school, had gone into trade school to become an electrician and was nearly half way through his apprenticeship when Stiles had followed, though he’d chosen college to the explicit relief of his parents; Stiles was a danger to himself without the addition of power tools.  
Due to the age difference - Derek a few years older and already in high school by the time Stiles and Scott joined the pack - they’d hardly been more than acquaintances; pack of course, but they didn’t have a strong bond. It had changed when Stiles moved to Los Angeles and Derek had shown up, inviting him to dinner on their parents’ request. Stiles had agreed, and while Derek was nowhere as talkative as Stiles they’d soon found out they shared a lot of interests - though not always opinions - and friendship had blossomed between them.

They pass they ‘Welcome to Beacon Hills’ sign nearly five hours later, Stiles turning left towards the preserve. The Hale house is dark when they arrive, the garage empty and Stiles drives the jeep inside, Derek grabs their bags and the two of them get out of the car as soon as it’s stopped. Stiles closes the gate and Derek locks it then they walk around to the back where Derek’s uncle, Peter, greets them with hugs before ushering them inside his car, handing them a few sandwiches and driving off. It’s been a long day and it doesn’t take long for Stiles to fall asleep, never noticing making Derek his pillow or how his heartbeat forms the background music to his dreams.

~

Stiles wakes to the smells of breakfast; bacon, coffee, waffles being the most prominent and enough to get him up from the mount of blankets on top of him; clearly he’s the last one awake.

Stepping into the kitchen he’s greeted by a chorus of “good morning” and “did you sleep well” as well as a hug from his mom and a wave from his dad before he turns his attention back on the sizzling bacon ignoring the chaos erupting around the dinner table; Stiles hugs his mom back before finding his seat, reaching for the bread and butter, giving Derek a grateful smile as the ‘wolf pours him a cup of coffee, stirs in a drop of milk.

It’s loud around the table, with thirty people between the ages of 5 and 70 it’s par for the course, talking and laughing and demanding various food items being send from one end of the table to the other. Before long the food’s gone and by silent agreement they get dressed as quickly as possible before going outside, choosing to deal with clean up later when they lure of the newly fallen snow isn’t as strong.

It’s one of those postcard worthy mornings where the sun shines eagerly from a light blue sky and the untouched snow is glittering like diamonds. It lasts for less than ten seconds; Cora’s the first out the door, jumping into the snow and falling unto her back, arms and legs moving to make a snow angel - the rest of the pack descends on her and soon they’re all rolling around, their laughter and playful howls filling the air.

When they tired of it most of the pack takes off towards the trees, the humans are given a head start before the ‘wolves change into their beta shift and run after them in a game somewhere between tag and hide and seek. Behind are the youngest and oldest, the latter helping the former making snowpeople off to the side to make sure they won’t be caught in the middle when their pack mates return. Which they do soon enough, the first few running out from the trees snow balls flying towards them as the rest are chasing them.

The fight goes back and forth, alliances are formed and broken as fast as the snowballs can be made. Laura and Peter has gone into hiding and are aiming at whoever turns their back at them for more than a second; a few are hiding behind Cora, making snowballs and handing them to her, while everybody else mostly seem to be by themselves and against everybody. Even with her heightened senses Talia can’t follow the battle through the snow and the noise.

Eventually teams form around Peter and Cora, snowballs flying from one side to the other, outraged shrieks and victorious sounds following in their wake as they hit clothes and carelessly exposed skin, each side advancing and retreating equally, neither gaining the upper hand. The battle rages on even as people slowly withdraw to the safety of the spot where several snowpeople of varying size have been made over the past few hours, cheering for those of their teammates still on the field.

It’s Peter, Laura and Stiles against Cora, Derek and Erica; they can’t hear what’s said but suddenly the ‘wolves take off toward the trees once more, Stiles’ shoulder shaking with laughter as playful snarling and yipping sounds from the no longer visible ‘wolves. Talia shakes her head and under her breath mutters “children”, causing the adults around her to break into laughter, too.

The Hales’ cabin is built so that it faces the forest, the trees nearly framing it from corner to corner leaving only the back where the cars are parked free. Four figures slipping from the shadows, sneaking along the building to where the rest of the pack watches Stiles looking towards the now silent forest.

Stiles has never regretted not asking for the bite more than in this particular moment where the ‘wolves have gone quiet and he can’t hear them. He’s still trying to decide if he should follow when someone comes toward him at full sprint. He expects pain getting knocked down into the snow, but he lands softly, the air escaping his lungs in surprise rather than hurt. The snow’s cold against his back but his front feels like it’s a bit too close to the fireplace. Derek’s clean shaven cheeks and the tip of his nose are pink from the cold, his dark hair wet with melted snow, a few drops falling onto Stiles’ face; this close Stiles can see the specks of greys, blues and brown in his green eyes as well as the faint glimmer of beta-gold, a gleaming white fang peeking out between soft looking lips.

They stare into each other’s eyes, never noticing their rapt audience nor slowly sinking into the snow, Derek’s legs bracketing Stiles’ thighs, his arms encasing his shoulder though gradually bending, bringing his face closer to Stiles’ until every slow exhale heats the cold skin.  
Talia silently orders her pack inside and for once they go willingly, quietly, leaving the two young men to themselves; Peter draws the curtains before following the rest to get changed into dry clothes, and then getting started on lunch, Parrish and Melissa helping each other making hot chocolate. Getting dry clothes for herself, Talia looks out of the window just as Stiles surges up, kissing Derek.  
She turns away with a huge smile on her face.

**Author's Note:**

> What even are words? I have no idea, but come say hi on [tumblr](https://theydraggedmein.tumblr.com/) if you're so inclined


End file.
